Sanctuary
by RavenclawStudent
Summary: 'It's like he's left the world, like he's retreated to his mind, as if – as if it's his sanctuary.' Draco's son witnesses a horrible crime and father and son reap the consequences of it. But what does Hermione Granger have to do with this? And how is she connected to Draco's wife's murder? Draco finds his world crumbling before him, releasing buried secrets and complications. DHr.
1. Ghost

Hello!

My first novel, so I'm quite anxious! This was the story I had written for NaNoWriMo, and decided to post the first chapter on my birthday. I hope you like it! Please leave a review, here is the lengthier synopsis I had written:

'Draco Malfoy is a man who has suffered many fates. He watched his Headmaster die, he watched his school mate get tortured by his aunt, he watched as an evil psychopath invade his home and claim it as his own. He also watched the aforementioned psychopath kill his mother, and on top of that, he impregnated his best friend. But the war he watched unfurl at the tender age of 18 ended, and he was free from any conviction, but was inevitably tied down. Now, he was a proud father of Theodore Malfoy, a bright fourteen year old with a love for Astronomy. But when Theodore returned home for his Christmas, he watched as Draco's past caught up to him in the form of the torture and imminent death of his mother. Now in a comatose state, Draco watches his son act like a ghost, and he is willing to do anything to return his son to his normal state. But when Theo's new magical psychiatrist is Hermione Granger, complications and buried secrets arise, answering the one question in Draco's mind... Who killed Pansy Malfoy?'

I really wish you enjoy it, and please do leave some feedback! I'd like to know what you're thinking.

~RavenclawStudent.

* * *

The need to feel was unimaginable.  
Pain didn't even penetrate him.  
It's been too long.  
His father... Bless his father. So desperate to return him to his original state.  
Foolish wizard. Didn't he know?  
Theo cannot return.

* * *

"I don't know what to do Daph, it's like living with the walking dead. He'll come downstairs, eat something small, then go back to his room and won't come out. He won't talk to me, he—he..." He faltered, unable to continue. Daphne put a reassuring hand on his shoulder. He looked at her and she nodded. "I know he blames me." He whispered, sadness ringing through his tone. "I know he hates me because I wasn't there to save her... To save either of them." He felt the imperious feeling in his nose and knew that tears would gather in his eyes. Remaining steadfast in his volition to not start sobbing in front of his female companion, he bit them back. "I've already lost her, I can't afford to lose him either."

Daphne gazed at him sympathetically, rubbing his shoulder in a un-Slytherin like gesture.

"Draco, the boy is fourteen and he witnessed such a horrible crime. I can't deny he will be angry, and you're right, he probably does think like that."

"What part of this is supposed to make me feel better?" Draco asked miserably.

She sighed. "She's been gone for almost a month. You've had time to grieve but now you need to focus on your son. He's gone through a traumatic experience, he needs help." She said softly. "He can't continue like this." She had expected some fire back, some stubborn refusal from the pompous man that his son, a pureblooded Malfoy did not need psychiatric help.

But none came.

A truly dejected Draco made for a weak and desperate man.

"Okay," he mumbled quietly, sniffing. "You're right. He needs help."

Delicately, she offered. "Astoria was getting some help from a magical psychiatrist before she... You know." She shook her head, unwilling to mourn over her lost sister. "I can owl her. She's strictly confidential and really good, no-one knew of her identity other than the patients, who are sworn to secrecy anyway so the media isn't an issue. She had Astoria on the mend after a while before... Relapse I guess." She muttered. "Listen, I think we should face this issue as soon as possible but I won't do anything without your consent."

Draco's eyes flitted over to his room. Silent. He sighed and nodded. "I have nothing to lose... Apart from my son." Daphne nodded gravely.

"Come on."

* * *

"So I've spoken to her and she's given Theo an appointment next week, now all you have to do is tell him." Daphne told him. He barely registered what she said, his eyes glazed over at his son's room.

"He's not come out all day," Draco said throatily. "Has her death affected him so much?"

"Apparently," Daphne conceded gently. She placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder. "Draco, he's in shock. Theodore will come back to you, just have... Just have some patience."

"He's so unlike himself Daphne, so _different_. It's like he's left the world, like he's retreated to his mind, as if – as if it's his _sanctuary_." Draco said with a tone of awe.

Daphne regarded him sombrely. "Don't drain yourself in thoughts like that Draco. He'll come back in his own time; he'll come back through this. Psychiatrists are really good in matters like this; you remember their prominence after the war?" Draco nodded. "It'll do him good. Just have faith, because if you don't then what hope does he have?"

* * *

"Theo? Theodore are you awake?" No reply. The ringing tones of silence responded. Draco sighed. "Can I come in?" He asked. Again, no reply, a sigh emerged through his throat. Now fighting the tears that wouldn't stop, Draco quietly told him. "I'm coming in."

Theodore's room was absolutely spectacular. Since Draco's discovery last year of Theo's new found love for astronomy, he had designed his only son's room befitting of it as a gift to Theo. The room was a dark, navy blue, his ceiling magically transformed to depict the image of the sky outside, similar to that of Hogwarts ceiling. He had a wide window on the left of his room, a blue window seat accommodated with it, so Theo could observe the stars whenever he liked. A bathroom was adjacent to the room door and opposite the bed, which was next to the window Theo adored. A neat wooden desk was nestled in the empty corner, a book shelf left to it for Theo's books to reside. The floor was lushly carpeted, and the room on a whole was mainly blue, his favourite colour. Draco smiled at the memory of Theo seeing it, his grey eyes had lit up in excitement and awe, the happiness positively radiating off of him. He had constantly chatted to Draco about it after hugging him so tightly and constantly whispering his gratitude. It warmed his heart, seeing his heir look so carefree, so happy, so young...

Now, barely a year after, Theodore Malfoy was sunken, empty and lost.

And seeing it had made Draco's heart burn.

Draco hadn't ever been this emotional and distraught. Not even when he watched his mother die, he had only become withdrawn. Not when his father tried to murder him, and in return he had to retaliate bloodily, forcing his father into submission and then incarceration, which had led to his death. Then it was simple apathy. But this was his _son_, one of the few who meant more to him than his life had. Theo was Draco's life, ever since he held him in his hands at the prematurely born age of eight months. And he had gone through exactly what Draco had, only it was much harsher and crude, and it was Draco's fault. He had failed to protect his son. He had failed to protect _his family_.

And Theo acknowledged that.

And hated him for it just as much.

Draco didn't know that specifically, for Theo had become reserved a day after the incident. He was his father however, and despite how clichéd it sounded, Draco _knew_. He _knew _that he had shattered his son's trust far beyond fixable. He had been Theo's role model for all his life, Draco wasted no time explaining his past and retribution to his son, and _still _he had loved and looked up to his father. But this… _this _was different. Theo had loved his mother just as much as his father and what he had experienced was wrong and unfair and the _opposite _of the life his parents had worked so hard to give him. It was all crushed into miniscule pieces; an irreversible experience that Draco had underwent and never wished upon his son. That was a prayer completely ignored.

Theo had not moved upon Draco's arrival, sitting motionless on the edge of his bed looking out at the haughtily black sky, charmed to show Theo's favourite constellations. Draco made his way slowly next to his son, his heart slowly ripping to shreds.

"Son?" He called, willing his child to reply.

Nothing.

_Silence._

Draco's eyes leaked. Tears that would _not stop falling_.

He was sick of it. The tears and the pain and the torture and _his son_. Acting like _this_. So _morbid_.

So _deserted_.

He wiped them away hurriedly, approaching Theo's slouched body. He bit back a helpless groan at the sight of his beautiful boy. At fourteen, he already had grown out of his baby fat and definable cheekbones were settling.

Now hollow and grey.

Sparkling grey eyes, fiercely intense and stormy, coloured like the moons Theo loved to study.

Now blank and emotionless, still and _empty_.

His soft hair, so much like his father's, once blonde and healthy, shining much like his personality.

Now dirty and mangled.

He envisioned the perfect Azkaban prisoner.

Frighteningly, he looked very much like his _grandfather_.

"Theodore?" Draco said, half panicky.

He did not move an inch.

He did not even _flicker_.

He heard but did not hear.

Draco cleared his throat, strenuously working to keep his emotions at bay. "I've decided we need to take action on your… _issues_. I've made an appointment for you; I hope that is fine by you." Draco said tentatively. Theo appeared not to have registered what his father said. Draco's heart fell. "It's next week. I'll be back here before the appointment to check on you…" His presence was not acknowledged. "She'll be coming here for the first appointment and she'll want to speak to you so I can only hope you'll be ready."

Finding nothing more to say to his heir and the silence too heart-breaking, Draco walked out of the room after that, a fresh wave of rejection and despondency crashing over him. Daphne was in the kitchen, manually brewing two teas.

"So?" She asked as Draco grabbed a mug and sat on the island.

"Nothing," he replied, shaking his head and drinking his tea. He barely registered the scalding burn the hot tea left. "Can I have something stronger than this?" He asked but Daphne firmly shook her head, he narrowed his eyes.

"I saw the empty bottles in your study Draco; you know the answer to that already." She said scathingly with an underlying scolding tone. Draco nodded. "I guess now all you have to do now is wait for the appointment."

"Do you think it'll work?" He asked. Daphne stopped wiping the sugar off the counter. She faced him, her arms crossing over each other as she leaned against the stove.

She sighed. "I don't know Draco, I really don't. I can't feed you false hopes about the outcomes of this, I can only hope for the best and tell you that this woman... She's amazing. She incorporates muggle methods into her therapy and most people overcome whatever issue it is they come to her for. She's wonderful and I'm proud of you for giving this a chance."

Draco shook his head, looking down at his already empty mug. "I'm so desperate right now Daph I'll take just about anything, all I need is my son back."

"And he will come back!" Daphne told him with conviction. "He's a Malfoy; he won't be leaving anytime soon." Draco nodded, but Daphne's reassuring words did nothing to this ache set low beneath his stomach.

* * *

"Theodore? It's nearly time for the appointment!" Draco yelled from outside his room. When no acknowledgement was offered, Draco leaned his against the cool, wooden door. "Theo, please, _please_ just... Can you please just come out? Can you just be willing for this appointment? _Please_..." his whispers truly reflected his pain. Nonetheless, he remained cool and composed. "Theo, if not for myself or yourself, then do it for your mother."

Silence.

Draco silently banged his head against the door.

And then...

_Noise._

Rustling. Of duvets.

His ears perked up and he removed himself from the door. He could hear it. Surely, there were signs of life in there.

Then nothing.

"Draco?" Daphne called near the banister. "Draco she's here. Where is Theo?"

Draco glared at her, shaking slightly. "We are coming." Saying nothing more, he walked into his son's room.

Fighting back the tears wilfully, he sat opposite Theo on the bed. The hadn't looked at him, but Draco didn't expect it. He just sat there, watching his son through miserable eyes. How he yearned to hold his son, to be a comfort of some sort but he couldn't, he _knew_he couldn't be a father to his son anymore because of the murder and the reminder of that was before him.

"Theo..." He began emotionally. His son's grey eyes were vacant and gaunt. "Theo, she's here. Please son, just do this for me."

A flicker of emotion swept the fourteen years olds eyes. Draco identified it immediately, he was sure of it, it had probably filled his eyes many times before.

_Regret._

Then it was gone, leaving Draco to question whether he truly saw it.

He stood, glancing at his son one last time before coming to the conclusion that Theo would not be joining him for the appointment. He walked out of the room and down the steps, joining Daphne in the sitting room with who he believed was the psychiatrist. Draco, so consumed in his thoughts he did not even acknowledge her.

"Draco?" Daphne said softly, touching his knee. "Draco I'd like you to meet Theo's new psych, Hermione Granger."

The name snapped him out of his thoughts.

His head flew up in bafflement and he finally noticed, in front of him sat the woman he had barely seen in the last thirteen years.

"Granger?"

Dryly, she replied. "The one and only."

* * *

The box below wishes to be used...


	2. Enigma

A thank you to those who reviewed and enjoyed! I'm glad you liked it. It warmed the cockles of my heart :)

Speedier posts for more reviews I guess, despite it being pre-written, heavy editting needs to be done, but guess what? Reviews motivate me. Especially when I avoid my schoolbag stealthily.

Reviews = birthday cake that doesn't seem to disappear.

~RavenclawStudent.

* * *

"W-what are you doing here?" He spluttered, looking at her in awe. She gazed at Daphne expectantly, who explained.

"Draco, I just told you. She's Theo's psychiatrist." She told him gently.

Draco rounded on her, his grey eyes narrowed. "You're kidding me right? Please tell me you're joking." Daphne casted her eyes down, slowly shaking her head as a response, eliciting a groan from Draco, he could already feel the onslaught of headaches attack him. "_Daphne _what did you do?" He muttered against his tongue. Hermione looked at the two awkwardly, unsure of what to do. "I'm afraid there's been a mistake." Draco said strongly, pointedly looking at Hermione.

"No," Daphne argued. "There's been no mistake." She swivelled in her seat to pleadingly look at Draco, whose temple was imperiously twitching. "Give her a chance Draco. She can help. He needs it." She looked away, gazing at the grandfather clock with a troubled expression. Draco glowered at her.

"Mr Malfoy," she began professionally, deeming this the best moment to speak. "I can understand your hostility towards my treatment. From the _research _I've already pieced together what has already happened and I know our history hasn't exactly been the best –" Draco snorted audibly, but Hermione ignored him, "but I am not here for you or me or our past grievances, I'm here for your son. I will leave at your volition."

He regarded her squarely, sizing her professionalism up swiftly. Eying Daphne's imploring gaze, he sighed resigned. "Fine." He said shortly.

A grim smile passed Hermione's face and she nodded, opening her notebook. "Can you explain to me what happened? Don't hesitate in giving details."

Draco sighed, wishing he didn't have to recant the memory _again _for what felt like the thousandth time. "About a month and a half ago, as you already may know, Pansy died." As he said it, a numbed pain shot through him. It sounded so _odd_. It felt like it was yesterday he walked in to the disastrous scene. "But it was in the way she died which made Theo… as he is. It was the December holidays, and Theo, as per usual, returned home for the holidays. There was a murder case Shacklebolt needed me to look at on Christmas, so I left the two. You must understand, I left in complete trust of my wards; the protective charms around this house are strong, incredibly strong. I used the spells even Voldemort himself hasn't heard of, I'm sure. I assumed they were completely impenetrable. Only those close to the family could breeze through the wards, the rest had to state their full name and reason for the visit before permitted entry. And even then, Pansy was trained in combat and defence, so I left. I believed I had not a thing to worry about.

"I went, I did what was necessary. I came home." He said stoically. He knew he had turned paler visibly and was unusually stiff, even for the likes of him. Despite his repressed emotions, it was still difficult for him to recall upon the grave error he had made that day. "I came home to find her lying on her back swimming in her blood. Theo was on top of her, crying and screaming. On the wall was written traitor amongst other things.

"Most of his memories are completely frozen so using Leglimency on him is useless, unless he chooses to give them up, which in this state he won't." He informed her, his eyes fixed directly on his hands. "To this day, the only information I know from the murders is from the autopsy and the physical evidence."

Hermione nodded, scribbling onto the notebook. "Has Theo spoken to either of you since the death?" They both shook their heads, and she wrote something down in her book. "Has he outwardly shown any emotion?"

"He's _been_ quiet since the day after she died."

"And you are looking for help now?" Hermione inquired, but Draco could hear the disbelieving and disapproving tone beneath it. He sneered.

"Yes."

She nodded. "How was he during the day of the murder and the day after?"

"He barely spoke, only croaked a few words when he needed to. He couldn't even _look _at me – at anyone for that matter. He allowed me to clean him and put him to bed. It was late by then, and I passed out in his room. His screams in the middle of the night woke me. But when I shook him awake, he said nothing… did anything, it was after that he stopped talking to me." He felt his mind harden against the emotions drilling through it. "I had assumed it was his teenage way of coping, acting all tough and passive, but I was so wrong. It's not _normal_. He didn't even cry at the funeral." He felt the truth of it hit him like a brick wall again, and was momentarily stunned by it. He felt oddly hypocritical, calling his son's apathetic behaviour not normal, as he himself hadn't shed a tear for his mother at her funeral, but Theo was very much unlike him, it was that which made Draco love him even more. Now, he couldn't say that.

"Will he not be joining us today?" She asked Draco. He shook his head.

"Can you see him?" Draco said bitterly, Hermione's eyes narrowed.

"What's the situation with Hogwarts? Has he been given time off?"

This time, Daphne nodded. "Professor McGonagall has allowed him temporary leave."

"Okay. Now, seeing as this is the first appointment and Theo is now my patient, I would like the both of you to sign these documents," she pulled them out of her bag and handed them over to Draco. "This is only to ensure both Theo's and my privacy, nothing big, only the consequences." She smiled as Draco began reading them, signing each parchment off and handing it to Daphne to do the same. When they were done, Daphne neatly returned them to Hermione, who put it in her bag. "I expect Theo to do the same, but as he is in the predicament that he is in, I have no reason to believe he will defy this. I would like to however, cast a small spell on him. It won't have any side effects; I've used it many times in this career to be sure of that. It just reassures me that my privacy will remain just that, _private_. He is legally under your care so I am obligated to ask."

Draco nodded. "If anything happens to him…" He began warningly.

"I guarantee you your son will be completely fine." She quickly told him. He hummed in response.

"Is that all?" She asked.

Hermione shook her head. "I would like to speak to Theodore."

Draco gazed at her confusedly. "Already?" He asked.

"Yes," she confirmed. "Usually these first appointments would give me the opportunity to create some level of trust with the patient. As Theodore is absent from this session, I cannot do so without his presence, but still, it wouldn't be right for me to not say hello." Daphne smiled at Hermione, who reciprocated the action. Draco nodded curtly, vaguely regarding the situation as an oddity.

"This way," he said, walking up the stairs.

"Maybe it would be better if you informed him?" Hermione said as they reached his room, Draco nodded again, feeling a crick form in his neck.

Tiredly, he knocked on Theo's door. "Theo? I'm coming in, okay?" He was met with the achingly familiar silence, but he maintained his rampant emotions and quietly walked in, Hermione following in pursuit. "Theo, I have someone here to meet you. Her – her name is Hermione Granger." He didn't know what else to say, feeling some shame that his own son would not recognise him in front of others. Indeed Theo said nothing, staring ahead with the blank expression on his face, his mind far from his body. Hermione was watching them closely, and when Draco beckoned her forward, she walked in, her heels treading over the carpet.

"I can take it from here," she said softly, Draco nodded, walking out of the room and shutting the door behind him.

"Theodore?" She said. "Is it okay if I call you Theo? Your father calls you that." She noted. He made no motion so she sat next to him on the bed. "Your room is very beautiful Theo, I can already see that you love Astronomy, it's a hard subject, from what I can remember in my time at Hogwarts, but Draco tells me you're a bright boy, so I can imagine it to be quite easy for you." She continued, closely surveying his face. No difference to how he acted with Draco, so Hermione continued speaking. "Draco failed to mention why I'm here Theo. See, Draco's very worried about you, he tells me you don't talk to him, and he's completely wrecked by it. He told me you don't eat, and you're barely the active boy you used to be." She hesitated, wondering if she should tell him. "Daphne owled me, told me she was in need of my assistance. She said my profession would be useful here," she paused, evaluating him carefully. "I'm a magical trauma specialist, designated to work specifically with children who have experienced harsh traumas." He flinched almost imperceptibly, but Hermione caught sight of it and made a mental note. "Draco told me you witnessed your mother's murder –"

"That's enough."

Hermione looked up and saw Draco glaring at her angrily, his fists clenched and Daphne poorly attempting to restrain him. Hermione cleared her throat, returning her sight to Theo. "Theo, I'll see you soon okay? I have to leave now." She stood up and walked out of the room, leaving the two adults behind her.

"What the hell was that Granger?" He hissed. Hermione's back straightened.

"Let's discuss this downstairs," Daphne said, being the first to walk down the stairs, Hermione following.

"Malfoy, I must ask you to never disrupt our conversations like that." Hermione said tightly, her fingers clenched around the notebook.

"'Disrupt your conversations'?" He repeated angrily. "You mentioned his mother! That conversation was going nowhere!"

"And you know that how?" Hermione questioned. "I was establishing some level of trust with Theodore before you interrupted."

"By mentioning Pansy?" He whispered furiously. "How is that establishing trust?"

"I was trying to get him to communicate with me!" Hermione burst out. Taking a deep breath, she returned to her original practiced state. "Theodore is still in shock over what happened. He's in that state because her death has not truly registered in his brain, and by you not mentioning it hasn't been useful or useless. I needed to know my words were being heard. Now it will be harder to work with him because of this, and it will be harder to talk to him and get him to communicate." Hermione calmed down despite the story her eyes were speaking, taking another deep breath and gazing steadily at Draco. "I think that is enough for today, I will owl you the details of the next appointment and where my office is. Miss Greengrass?" Without a bid goodbye to Draco, she and Daphne walked towards the door, and in the night, after Daphne reprimanded him for his actions, did he truly admit he messed up.

* * *

Draco sighed as he leaned against the banister opposite his son's room. With a mug of steaming hot coffee and some toast lying faithfully by his side, he rubbed his head slowly as an owl pecked impatiently at the hall window. He hurried over to the window and let the owl in, quickly catching the letter before the owl left the house.

Ripping the envelope open, he groaned as he read what it said:

Dear Mr Malfoy,

I have scheduled an appointment for Theodore Malfoy on Wednesday the 25th of January at 2:15pm to continue our treatment. Please arrive promptly at the disclosed premise on the given day.

Yours sincerely,

Hermione Granger

He hadn't expected such a quick reply; after all, she had only visited earlier on in the week. He sighed, knowing the following week would be a difficult one. not only had Hermione's appointment fallen on Pansy's first full month as being dead, but there would also be the issue of managing to take Theo to the appointment and keeping his emotions well and truly intact as to not further disrupt her treatment. He didn't understand the extent of the damage he had inevitably inflicted, and it was obvious Hermione was somewhat similar, but he knew she understood some things that managed to escape Draco's usually analytical eyes. She wouldn't share though, she would probably spend her time analysing and researching if he knew her.

That posed as the truth though. He didn't know her, not anymore. From her outwardly appearance, Hermione Granger had changed _significantly._ He didn't remember teenage Granger walking in heels. Incredibly short – and unnoticeable to the untrained eye – heels they may be but heels nonetheless. He also couldn't recall the last time he had heard her speak so amiably, the professionalism she had swept out in the courtroom of his trial was still avidly presented to him, but other quirks such as her obsessive note-taking to _everything _he said had unnerved him. He didn't remember her being like that; he remembered the crazy notes she used to be associated with and her nasty habit of scolding her bodyguards – he really shouldn't call Potter that anymore – for copying them. No… it wasn't only that, other unrecognisable things were present in the new enigma that was Hermione Granger, and Draco found himself berating his mind for wasting such precious time on her. _  
_  
"She works fast, I'll have to say." A velvety voice noted. Draco's thoughts dissipated and he wheeled around, his eyes constricting at the sight of the dark-haired woman standing next to the stairs.

"She does," Draco conceded, still narrowly watching her.

"Draco..." She trailed off, but Draco stopped her with his raised hand.

"I don't want to hear it Daphne, I really don't." He said tiredly, sounding much older than he was. This fatigue of his was not playing well, and his constant watch over Theo like a hawk was taking a significant strain on him. He knew his colleagues and Daphne noticed his deteriorating state, on the days he bothered to show his face. They knew the death of his wife would not be easy, but the way Draco was acting was completely saturnine.

"I know what I did was wrong –"

"'Wrong'? 'Wrong'?" He laughed mirthlessly. "No Daphne, kissing your sister's boyfriend is wrong, cheating in an exam is wrong. Getting a person who hated you for nearly ten years to psychoanalyse your friend's son is _unexplainable_." He hissed, anger clear in his voice.

Daphne came closer, her eyes riddled with guilt. "I just thought that if I told you –"

"If you told me then what? That I would stop my own son from getting treatment?" He stopped when he saw Daphne look down. "You... You thought I wouldn't let him get treated?" He whispered in awe.

"I was afraid of what you'd sacrifice Draco, Theo's in a critical condition, and he needs treatment from the best and the quietest. Granger's the best psychiatrist you'll find in the magical world, and she's also very private. She was perfect for you and I was afraid you would pass it off over the past." She pleaded, her eyes shining with manifested blame and shame.

Through clenched teeth, he replied. "The past is quite important, given our one."

Daphne looked sad. "Not when it affects decisions made about your son." She said gently.

"Decisions made about my son." Draco repeated. Daphne looked down. "_My son_."

"I care," she said, sounding broken.

"There's a line," he said softly. "You crossed it."

Walking into his son's room, he refused to say another word.

* * *

"Theo, I got you some toast; peanut butter and jam... Your favourite." Draco mustered a smile, setting the plate in front of him. His son looked on, uncaring and blank. "Please eat, you're getting incredibly thin." He didn't notice the letter in his hand until he almost left the room. Turning around, he informed his comatose son. "We have an appointment with Miss Granger on Wednesday, you have to be present, it is to help you." Draco said somewhat kindly, feeling the energy drain from him agonisingly slowly. He noticed Theo's shift in posture and perked up.

"We have to go to this appointment, it's necessary." He said simply. With that, he slouched out, letting Theo mull over his words, distinct hopes to grab another comforting mug of hot beverage and a decent biscuit, he rounded on the stairs, looking up and making an annoyed expression.

He groaned, rubbing his face. "What are you doing here?"

"I decided we need to sort out our issues." She said matter-of-factly. Draco almost bashed his head against the pole.

"And how exactly did you enter my house?" He asked.

"Daphne let me in when she was going out. She looked really upset." She added.

Draco raised an eyebrow but said nothing.

Awkward silence engulfed them, and they both stood there, fidgeting and looking around.

Finally, Draco huffed. "What do you want Granger? I've got an unresponsive kid who I must attend to."

"I know you do," she nodded. "Has he communicated with you?"

Draco shook his head. "He moved when I notified him of our appointment yesterday, but even then..."

"Even the barest minimums count," Hermione said. She sighed deeply. "We need to resolve our... past issues; I will not have Theo be affected in his treatment by either of us." Before he could snidely comment, she continued. "This goes for the both of us Malfoy, we have to be good at this, he cannot know of it. We need to be able to act appropriately around each other whilst his treatment is going on. If you wish so, you can continue acting however you like, but for the sake of Theodore..." She faltered.

He did not say anything, simply nodding. Truthfully, he knew she was right. He would not allow anything to affect Theo's treatment, and if it meant sucking up to a ghost of the past, then by all means, but he could not risk losing his son.

She smiled, looking deeply grateful. She stood upright and was ready to excuse herself before Draco's sharp voice spoke her name. She turned, startled.

"Will he come back?" He asked, surprising himself with the strength in his voice. Hermione's face fell, unsure and nervous.

"I don't know Malfoy, but I can assure you that I'll try my best to bring him back to you."

"Have you dealt with case like this before?" He asked.

She shook her head. "Not as complicated as this. I've had children who witnessed family traumas, but not their mothers being murdered so brutally, and the significance to it. It's an interesting case, and I will try my best for him, he seems like an exceptionally bright boy."

"He is – he was..." He trailed off. "As much as it sickens me to admit this Granger, you're my last straw. He's not... responding to me – and I'm his father. I can't imagine how you'll be able to..." He shuddered, unwilling to have such thoughts like that. "Fix him Granger."

Hermione cleared her throat, a determined look fixed on her soft features. "I will. I promise."


End file.
